


Beings, Stuck In An Endless Vortex Of Time

by QueenKara671, raranalga



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Captivity, Curses, Destruction, Elemental Magic, Gen, Gods, Insanity, Lots of murder lmao, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protection, Rage, Secrets, VERY inspired by the kingkiller chronicles, also best read while listening to “Love Run” album by The Amazing Devil, arson pog, best read while listening to the “Dear Wormwood” album by The Oh Hellos, captainpuffy is quite literally a mom, clean-shaven schlatt, dont have a lot of hope lmao, holy shit thats a lot of characters, might change them later idk, no beta we die like men, schlatt and minx are siblings, tags aren’t permanent, testing out a god concept, transition work, tryna see if i can pull it off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29473401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenKara671/pseuds/QueenKara671, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raranalga/pseuds/raranalga
Summary: With the Youth growing closer to the once-great Temple of the Green Servator, will the Beings hold out against the change?
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	1. Intro: The Praedulcis Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Servators realize the Youth is coming closer

“What do you think of me as?”

“A friend.”

“Really? Just a friend?”

The wind danced through his long, blond hair. His crippled wings stretched in the basking sun, absorbing what it could from its rays. The man took in a deep inhale, and stared at the praedulcis hills with those knowing, green eyes. He stood amongst the ruins of his once-magnificent templum. The overgrowth was slowly becoming too much to handle, but the man didn’t care enough to do anything about it. 

“You haven’t proven yourself to be anything more than that.”

His friend scoffed, and turned his gaze away from the large hills. His blue, frayed cloak flew in the wind, accompanying the frantic movements of the wooden trinkets attached to his Lignum. Unlike the old gaze well-settled in his accomplice’s emerald eyes, a reckless, youthful light burned in his milky, azure eyes. Even in a fit of annoyance, the same bright smile tugged at his mouth. He stabbed his Lignum into the earth’s skin, and kneeled to the soil. 

“I feel betrayed, azlihP. We've been through countless bellum together, never once straying from each other’s sides. Yet you see me as insignificant, a pawn in your game of endless life.”

“ _Our_ game of endless life. You joined this feud not long ago as well, remember? You’re just as responsible for everything as I am, ytikcauQ.”

“Yet I’m just as important to you as the people who destroyed your templum.”

“I never said that. You’re a friend, those mortals are my enemies.”

“Yet you still protect them.”

“Because that’s what I agreed to do. Lest someone comes to take my place, I shall do my job as intended.”

A deep silence engulfed the two immortalis, leaving them to stare at the untouched land. It wouldn’t remain as such for long, only until the humans realized how much they needed the divine power. At least they could appreciate the beauty while it lasted. The older being inhaled deeply again, a sweet scent carried by the wind finding its way to him. The blond turned his head to see the pinkette approaching the two. He tried his damndest not to smile, but it was impossible to do so in front of the pure woman.

“What brings you here, uhcahiN?”

“Your troubled soul, dear azlihP. And your restless vis, dear ytikcauQ.”

“I’m not restless.”

“Ah, but you are. I could sense it thousands of ways away. Now, what brings us to this sorrowful site of fallen power, my brethren?”

“Nothing, dear uhcahiN. Just that the Youth are growing ever closer to recovering it.”

“I see. Yes, that is a calling for return.”

The pinkette’s brightly-colored wings shimmered in the sun’s gleam. Her pale skin seemed to glow under it’s kiss, making her outshine her brethren. She took her spot in between the two feuding friends, bringing balance to their argument. No one could bring forth chaos in her presence, that was already known. Instead, they put aside their differences, and stared out at the praedulcis hills. 

“Do you think one will join us?”

“By which do you mean, uhcahiN?”

“I mean one of the Youth, azlihP. They’re essence is felt, even here. They grow ever closer to your ruins, they might become one with it.”

“They wouldn’t.”

“And what makes you think that, ytikcauQ?”

“Well, azlihP, they value their short, insignificant lives too much. This you already know, for you have said it yourself.”

“That may be true, but there’s always the chance that they will defy what we expect. You did that, remember, ytikcauQ?”

“Yes, I remember, uhcahiN.”

The three beings sat on the ruins of the once-marvelous, glass temple. The man with broken wings inhaled yet again, and closed his eyes. The man with the Lignum sighed, and his pale-yellow wings appeared in the light. He exhaled lightly at the wings stretched, making themselves comfortable with their new position. The pinkette gleamed in the sun, but her shimmering, pastel wings drooped to the ground. So the three beings stood, basking in the ever-growing presence of the approached Youth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey remember that pilot chapter i mentioned a while back? yea, this is it. i’ll update this again after omnisciently horrid is finished. i hope y’all will enjoy this :]


	2. The Succendit Town of Raxlish: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blond Protector and the Boy cross paths in a burning village

The fires blazed around the tall boy, threatening to sear his skin if he wasn’t careful. He pulled his black cloak closer to his body, and heaved as the smoke piled up in his lungs. No, he was already being too careless. If he kept this up, he’d die from overconsumption of the fumes. The blond grimaced, and carried on through the burning street. He had one reason to be there, and one reason only.

He needed to find survivors.

He was sure someone would have survived, whether it be a frail, old woman or a child bundled in wool blankets. He swore his allegiance to protect any town that hired his services, he wasn’t going to take back that promise now. But he was too consumed by his thoughts. He wasn’t paying attention as a lone tree tumbled to the ground right in front of him. He let out a short shriek, and fell back as the embers landed on his skin. He seethed, and tried his best to fling them off his pale skin. The blond sighed once he did, and continued on his journey. Yes, he was being much to carless. He needed to be consumed by the moment, and find what he needed to find.

And it was at that moment that he did.

A burning corpse lay on top of an unconscious teenager, the dancing fire trying to make its way onto his body. The corpse couldn’t have been any older than 45, and by the looks of it, they seemed to be a blacksmith. The teenager couldn’t have been any younger than 17, yet they held the same gruffy demeanor, but with a splash of innocence. Yes, they were a child, anyone could see that. So when the blond protector noticed that the teenager was still breathing, albeit very slow, he didn’t hesitate in pulling him from the corpse’s grasp. However, he shouldn’t have underestimated the strength of a blacksmith. Even in death, the blacksmith kept a firm grasp on the child, trying to protect him from whatever menace had destroyed his beloved village. 

The blond protector pulled out his long, steel sword from his scabbard. He carefully slid it under the corpse’s arm, and pried it free from it’s grasp around the child. Once he did so, the blond protector sheathed his sword, and dragged the child’s unconscious body out from the burning building. He laid the teenager’s body on the ground, and unhooked his black cloak from around his body. He prepared to wrap it around the child, and by doing so, got a good look at them. 

It was a boy with singed, brown hair, and young, tan skin. However, the charred dust of wood covered his body and clothes, along with several severe burns. A long, wooden stake peeked out of his chest, causing the blond protector to realize that the teenager had been impaled. He hesitated for a second, his black cloak falling to his side. Who would hurt an innocent child, and leave them there to die? Surely not the blacksmith, the corpse was in a position of protection. The blond protector was brought back to reality when the building next to him fell, crushing the corpse of the blacksmith.

Right. He was supposed to be getting the kid out of here.

Working fast, he wrapped the child in the comforting, black cloak, and picked him up like a groom carrying their bride. He tried his best to support the teenager’s neck, but it was hard to do so when he was running through the blazing inferno. He darted around corners, trying to navigate the succendit maze. It became increasingly frustrating when he would turn to find a collapsed house or tree blocking his path. Finally, he came to a path that wasn’t blocked by the burning embers of Raxlish. The downside was he didn’t know how long he could keep this up. He could already feel the smoke tearing away at his trained lungs, and the spare embers that fluttered onto his unprotected skin burned into his muscles. But that didn’t matter.

He was going to get this person to safety, no matter the cost.

The blond protector soon found himself in an empty clearing outside the burning town of Raxlish. His muscles ached, and his armor felt heavy against his body. Still, he trekked further until he was on the edge of a forest. How long he had been walking, he had no clue. He knew that he couldn’t carry on any further, so he laid the child against a towering tree. The wound on his chest had gotten worse, the blood seeping through the once-bright cloth. The blond protector grimaced, realizing what he must do. He inhaled sharply, and tore the boy’s shirt right down the middle. He seethed as he watched the blood pour out of his chest.

“Oh esvin...this is not a job for me.”

Slowly, the blond protector grasped the wooden stake. He inhaled sharply, and started a mental countdown. 3, 2, 1, go! He ripped the stake out of the boy’s chest, causing him to jolt awake. The boy screamed, but was quickly drowned out by his own gurgles. The taste of blood coated the boy’s mouth, and the very same liquid poured past his lips. The boy coughed, and looked up to meet the blond protector’s gaze. The armored man quickly grabbed the edge of his cloak, which was still wrapped around the boy, and didn’t hesitate in tearing off a long strip of the cloth.

He immediately dug into one of the numerous patches on the cloak, and pulled out a long, slender needle. It had already been thread with a brown string, and the blond protector took a moment to thank his mother for constantly pestering him about it. He turned his gaze to the boy to find that he was in the process of passing out due to blood loss. He was suddenly reminded that he was on a heavy time constraint, and immediately worked on closing the wound. The boy’s eyes sluggishly opened once he felt the small pain of a needle gliding through his skin, but quickly ignored it. He was oh so tired, and just wanted to close his eyes. 

The blond protector tied the string, and quickly admired his work. His tailor of a mother would have been proud. He grabbed the spare strip of black cloth, and moved the boy into a sitting position. He groaned in response, the blood still running out of his mouth. The blond protector told himself that he had to be careful with this. One wrong move could result in the death of a child, and blood on his hands. He carefully wrapped the cloth around the wound, applying just enough pressure to keep it from bleeding. He tied the knot on the boy’s chest for maximum sleeping comfort, and let out a deep exhale as he leaned the boy against the tree yet again. He had finally passed out, the pain of the wound becoming too much to handle. 

The blond protector sighed as he collapsed against the tree, exhaustion finally catching up to him. He quickly pulled off his metal armor, and unhooked his scabbard from his belt. He carefully laid the sheathed sword to his side, keeping it in a ready position in case anything tied to attack the duo. With the protecting armor stripped from his body, he looked like a normal villager. Well, as normal as a villager with burned clothes and charred-covered skin could be. He looked at the boy once again, his green eyes giving the sleeping child a sorrowful look. He exhaled slowly, and fell into a deep slumber.

===========================================================

The sun seeped through the flying leaves of the ever-growing trees, landing softly on the skin of both boys. The brunet had barely moved the night before, probably from being in such a deep sleep. His breathing may have been shaky and uneven, but at least he was breathing in the first place. The blond protector, while not sleeping as hard as the boy, was still resting peacefully. The sun’s rays moved ever so slightly until they landed perfectly across the blond protector’s eyes. His green eyes fluttered open, and he groaned softly as he sat up against the tree. His muscles ached, and he smelled like burnt pork. He slowly stretched his long limbs, and looked down at his hands. 

They were covered with a deep red.

The blond protector suddenly remembered everything that happened the night before, and snapped his head in the boy’s direction. He sighed in relief when he saw his stable-enough condition. The wind picked up, ruffling itself through the blond’s long hair. He looked down at his black cloak, still wrapped around the boy, and carefully pulled a small, white strip of cloth. He pulled his hair in style resembling a horse’s tail, tying it with the white cloth, and slowly stood up.

“C’mon, Jonald, let’s find a stream to cleanse you.”

The blond protector, who was seemingly talking to his sword, delicately lifted the weapon. He looked down at the child, and felt a pang of regret. He didn’t want to leave him, but they needed water. But only the Servators know who was lurking in the shadows of the forest, ready to ambush the two. As the blond protector contemplated leaving, the boy stirred in his sleep. His eyes opened to reveal a sunken, distant brown that moved to stare at the blond protector. His face was devoid of any emotion, making it nearly impossible to tell what he was thinking. Having been slightly startled by this, the blond protector coughed nervously.

“Hallo, uh, person. I’m a Vassal Tabellarius, my name given being Ranboo.. I was employed to protect Raxlish, and anyone from it-”

“Where is my father?”

The boy’s voice was soft, but also coarse, probably from the amount of smoke he had inhaled the previous night. He tried sitting up, but yelped in pain. The blond protector knelt to his side, and tried his best to get him to a comfortable position. The boy never lifted his stare from the Vassal Tabellarius as he waited for an answer. Having noticed this, the blond protector sighed. He didn’t want to break the news to him, but he had no choice. He put a comforting hand on the brunet’s shoulder, and looked at him with his pained, green eyes.

“Your father’s dead, along with everyone else from Raxlish. I’m sorry.”

The two stared at each other until the boy’s gaze slowly fell to the tree’s trunk. His eyes looked like he was staring into another reality, his thoughts too occupied to assess the world around him. The blond protector felt guilt well up inside him, readying itself to explode. In response to that, he did what he usually does, and pushes his feelings down, deep enough that they won’t come crawling out. His hand fell from the boy’s shoulder to his back, and he tried to comfort him by soothingly rubbing it. 

“Come, we’re going to find a stream.”

The blond protector stood up, fully expecting the boy to accompany him with little trouble. That’s why it confused him when the boy chose to stay slumped over the tree. He frowned at the sight, and sighed. He stuck out his hand, offering his help to the brunet. The boy met the Vassal Tabellarius’s eyes for a split second, before his gaze fell again. Despite that, he accepted the offer of help, and grabbed the hand. A small smile tugged at the blond’s lips as he carefully helped the boy stand. Once the two were on their feet, he walked over to the side of the tree in which he had slept the previous night, and collected his spare armor. He looked back at the boy, and using his free arm, he swiftly grabbed the boy’s hand without second thought. 

The two trekked along the forest for a while, long enough so that the sun was in the center of the sky. Finally, they came across a small stream that flowed a bit deeper into the forest, but nonetheless on the edge. The blond protector stopped walking, and knelt down next to the water. He washed his bloody hands, which had since dried, and dried them on his wool pants. He scooped up the fresh, clear water in his hands, and quickly drank it as is. The brunet looked over at the blond, and slowly kneeled down to the stream. One of his hands was pulling the black cloak over his shoulders, as it was far too big for him. His free hand was covered by dry blood, and charred remains from Raxlish. His hand shook ever so slightly as he plunged it into the stream’s water. 

The blond protector stopped streaming when he saw the water become polluted with reds and blacks. He turned to face the boy, who had started to clean his face with the water from the stream. The blond released a small smile as he unsheathed his sword. The boy whipped his head in the Vassal Tabellarius’s direction, and mentally sighed in relief when he saw that no one else was there. The blond protector laid his sword to his side, and untied a clean cloth from around the sword’s hilt. He laid it in the water, letting it soak through, and started cleaning the edge of the fine blade. He looked over at the boy for a moment, before continuing to clean the sword.

“What’s your name, apprentice?”

The brunet didn’t answer. He instead looked down at his chest, a sad look overtaking his face, and raised a shaky hand to his wound. After noticing this, the blond protector realized he struck a nerve, albeit, he didn’t know why. He stopped cleaning his sword, and looked over to the boy. He tried to study his mannerisms, but it was hard to do so when the boy barely moved. The blond protector sighed, and shoved his clean sword into his scabbard. 

“Well, I have to call you something. Let’s see….Tubbo. Tubbo sounds adequate.”

The boy looked up to meet the Vassal Tabellarius’s gaze, and nodded slowly, showing that he approved of the name. The blond protector grinned, and stood up. He started putting on his scattered pieces of armor, each tinted with a deep shade of purple. The brunet couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship. He was, after all, the son of a blacksmith. Upon remembering that, his gaze fell to the floor again, his mind growing distant. The blond protector finished strapping on his last piece, and walked over to the boy’s side.

“C’mon, let’s leave the woodland. Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky, and find a Mercorte.”

He lifted his long, covered arm out to the boy. Without looking up, the brunet accepted the offer of help, and was pulled to his feet. The blond protector didn’t let go of the brunet’s hand, and instead guided him through the undergrowth. He was focused mainly on finding someone that could help, but that would be hard to do since he had no clue where the nearest town was. The best option would be to look for one of the Mercorte, who were known to come from nowhere and everywhere. It’s said that they always had whatever you needed, like they knew exactly what you were looking for.

Lucky enough, the blond protector and the boy were able to find one. 

The duo came across a man with skin tan from traveling under the endless sun, short, brown hair with the exception of a thin, long braid crawling down his back, and a properly groomed beard. He wore a turquoise shirt with cow-hide pants, and was completely barefoot. A small carriage that was attached to the backs of two white horses, who grunted restlessly. The man was busy trying to calm down a spotted black-and-white mare, who was in a fit of panic. Even with her black spots, the charred remains of wood were still visibly smeared on her hide. The man with a braid noticed the two approaching, and did his best to greet them.

“Tally ho, travelors! I’d formally greet you, but I am a bit occupied in the moment!”

The blond protector let go of the brunet’s hand, and quickly ran to aid the Mercorte. The horse, having noticed the young Vassal Tabellarius, started panicking even more. The bearded man started to shush the mare even louder than before, carefully waving his hands in the air. The horse whipped head in the direction of the Mercorte, and closed in on his hand. The mare’s teeth tore at his hand, the skin tearing open. The bearded man quickly moved back, hissing in pain.

“Oh, hell’s blazes!”

The blond protector closed in on the mare, and started to calmly stroke her mane. Slowly, the horse’s panic ceased to exist, and it calmed down completely. The Vassal Tabellarius turned to face the Mercorte, and seethed when he saw the man clutching his hand. He whipped his head in the boy’s direction, who was standing idly not too far away, and motioned him over. The brunet slowly made his way over, and stopped next to the Vassal Tabellarius. The blond protector looked down at the boy, his green eyes slightly panicked. 

“Can you take care of her while I help the Mercorte, Tubbo?”

The boy nodded, while avoiding eye contact, and reached out a shaky hand to pet the horse’s mane. She neighed softly, and immediately turned to face the brunet. The blond protector took his leave, and immediately ran to the bearded man’s side. He was gripping the open wound on his hand, a deep blue seeping out of it. For a moment, the young Vassal Tabellarius forgot about the wound, and stared in amazement. 

“You’re an Aqua-Titulari?”

“By blood and heritage. Say, I have some bandages laying about in my gero. Do you mind getting them for me?” 

The blond protector nodded, and bolted to the carriage. He had little to no problem finding the bandages, which were sprawled about in a small, woven basket. The young blond thought to hell with it, and grabbed the entire box. He ran back out of the covered carriage, and moved to stand next to the Mercorte. The man muttered his thanks, and immediately started wrapping his wounded hand. The blond protector watched, fidgeting slightly from the nerves of being in front of an Aqua-Titulari.

“So, uh, can you do any tricks?”

The bearded man raised an eyebrow as he tied off the bandage.

“Of course I can. Would you like to see one?”

The blond protector couldn’t help but nod like a giddish child. The bearded man chuckled, and unhooked something from his leather belt with his uninjured hand. It was a small horn covered by a wooden lid kept down by a leather strap. He unhooked the strap, and a string of water flew out. The blond protector watched in amazement as it danced around the spotted mare, causing the horse to snap at that small body of water. The brunet, while not initially frightened, does jump when the horse suddenly jolts into the air. 

The bearded man laughs as he guides the water away from the horse. The blond protector has a bright grin on his face as he turns to face the Mercorte, but it quickly falters when he notices his eyes. They were a thick, translucent substance that could be mistaken for water, but didn’t exactly look like it. The Aqua-Titulari notices the blond protector’s alarmed expression, and rushes the water back into the horn. As he buckles down the lid, his eyes return to their normal white with a brown iris. 

“I’m sure you’re curious as to what happened to my eyes.”

“Very.”

The bearded man chuckles, and ties the horn to his belt.

“You don’t know much about the Titulari, do you?”

“I know you can control water, fire, nature, or wind with your mind.”

“Ah, yes. Though it’s not exactly our whole mind. You see, we’re trained as children to separate our consciousness into two halves, one for normal, everyday activities, and one for Titulari purposes. If we only have one whole mind, using our abilities would take up our entire mind, leaving our bodies defenseless.”

“Esvin...I never thought of it like that. What about the eye thing?”

“That’s just a side effect. Whenever we use our gifts, a part of our body is affected based on what our Titularian is. The more we use it, the more of our body turns into that element. Today, it just happened to be my eyes. .”

“That’s, well, interesting.”

The bearded man shrugged.

“It’s just how it works. Now, come with me, travelor! I have goods galore tucked away in my gero, though please refrain from speaking the devil’s tongue in front of my horses. They rather dislike it.”

The blond protector nodded, and eyed the two horses carefully as he walked towards the carriage. The bearded man quickly ran inside of the gero, and pulled up a blue sheet that was apparently covering a small window. He flexed his fingers as he leaned against the window, and the Vassal Tabellarius stopped in front of him. The Mercorte lets out a friendly smile.

“So, what fancies your interest, travelor?”

“Something that could help keep me and the boy alive.”

“Boy, huh? You don’t look much older than him.”

“Yes, well, I took an oath to protect his town and anyone from it. I don’t plan on breaking it now.”

“Servator, you Vassal Tabellarius and your oaths.”

“Oh, don’t act like the Mercorte are much better. You took an oath to preserve that braid!”

“It was a vow, not an oath. Know the difference, young travelor.”

Despite this little argument, neither side took it seriously. The bearded man smiled as he walked around his gero, pulling out little baskets and trinkets all collected from the vast lands of Termunum. Although the blond protector was slightly enthralled by the foreign inventions, he had to remember what he and the boy needed the most. He looked over at the woven basket containing bandages.

“I’ll take the bandages.”

The Mercorte looked at him, and then over at the boy. 

“How many’d you like?”

“All of them.”

The bearded man nodded, and pushed the basket towards the Vassal Tabellarius.

“That’ll be 3 Remquiro.”

The blond protector nodded, and went to grab something in his cloak. Amongst remembering that the boy was still wearing it, he motioned him over. The brunet trudged towards the carriage, the mare following him closely from behind. The blond protector grabbed something from the many pocket in his cloak, and handed 3 Remquiro to the Mercorte. The bearded man picked up the money as the Vassal Tabellarius shoved the bandages into one of the bigger pockets of the cloak. The Aqua-Titulari watched curiously as the boy fidgets when the weight of the cloak shifts. 

“Where do you two be heading, travlor?”

“Wherever the stream leads us.”

“Well, judging by your dialect, you’re from Southern Termunum like me. Are you not heading in that direction?”

“I’m afraid not. I have to get him to safety first.”

The Mercorte eyed the makeshift bandage on the boy’ chest carefully. 

“Well, be weary of where you tread. The common word is that the Blade has been spotted traveling.”

The boy inhaled sharply, and looked down at the flowing grass. Both the Mercorte and the Vassal Tabellarius turned their gaze over to the boy, concern collectively arched in their brows. It was then that the bearded man properly took in the ashes scattered on their skin. He looked up at the mare, noticing she had the same charred remains of Raxlish brushed across her. The Mercorte bit his lip, and stood up straight in his gero.

“Feel free to take the mare, I have no use for another horse anyway.”

The blond protector gave him a surprised look.

”Are you sure? A horse as healthy as this would sell well.”

”I’m positive. Be safe, young travelors. May the Servators guide your souls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what. This is a cooperative work now! My amigo QueenKara671 is now a co-author, and will be writing all further chapters with me. This is just a reupload of the older chapter with some minor modifications. Hope y'all enjoy our fic!


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